He had also another, more distant, very faint idea, that it had better not be mentioned just yet, for a reason entirely undefined.
He consulted his watch.

The maid had come in for the robeing of her mistress.

Nataly's mind had turned to the little country cottage which would have given her such great happiness.

She raised her eyes to him; she could not check their filling; they were like a river carrying moonlight on the smooth roll of a fall.
He loved the eyes, disliked the water in them.

With an impatient, 'There, there!' and a smart affectionate look, he retired, thinking in our old satirical vein of the hopeless endeavour to satisfy a woman's mind without the intrusion of hard material statements, facts.